


Songs in the Key of T: Thinking Out Loud

by SayAnythingSerendipity



Category: Figure Skating RPF, Men's Hockey RPF, Morgan Rielly - Fandom, Morgan Rielly/Tessa Virtue - Fandom, Tessa Virtue - Fandom, Tessa Virtue/Morgan Rielly - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Love Stories & Love Songs, Morgan Rielly - Freeform, Tessa virtue - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25663978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SayAnythingSerendipity/pseuds/SayAnythingSerendipity
Summary: A fluffy piece on two of my favourite Canadians, who happily are in a relationship with each other.
Relationships: Morgan Rielly/Tessa Virtue, Tessa Virtue/Morgan Rielly
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	Songs in the Key of T: Thinking Out Loud

**Author's Note:**

> This short story is inspired by the lyrics of a love song.

_“And I’m thinking ‘bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways. Maybe just the touch of a hand. Oh me, I fall in love with you every single day. And I just wanna tell you I am.” - **Thinking Out Loud** by Ed Sheeran _

Before that day, handshakes were always in the background of her life. Shaking hands with fellow competitors when meeting them for the first time, maybe graduating those handshakes to perfunctory (and often awkward) hugs the more she saw of them in subsequent skating events. Shaking hands with fans at sponsored events, often using the same hands to autograph whatever memorabilia those fans would bring with them (within reason of course). And handshakes with supporters and sponsors, the people behind the funds that helped her to pursue her skating career by giving her the financial security to focus solely on striving for excellence in her sport. 

She knew who he was, of course. Her big brothers and big sister were big enough hockey fans that when she was little, she loved the team that they loved even if little T didn’t always understand the stats her big brothers would use to predict the odds of the Leafs’ success each year. She loved watching games with her big sister, cheering with her whenever the Leafs scored. Giggling with her at their brothers’ groans when a call or goal didn’t go the Leafs way. 

As she grew older, her brothers’ draft day banter and the way they celebrated the first game of each season with such hope became part of her way of keeping some sense of normalcy to a life away from home regimented by how many hours she had to skate, how many calories she was allowed to consume, and how many times she’d long to hit snooze on her alarm to get a bit more sleep before her day at the rink would begin. The love of the Leafs she shared with her siblings gave her a piece of home to reminisce about as she trained in a foreign country, and missed home in between stints at the rink. The year he got drafted was big for her brothers, and the fact that he made it to the Leafs so early in his career with the impact he had, made him one of her brothers’ favourites fairly quickly.

She remembers her friend telling her that once she arrived in Charlottetown, they were hosting an informal dinner party prior to the fundraising event the next day so that all of the special guests taking part in the event had the chance to meet and relax before the big weekend raising money for their shared charitable cause. They’d mentioned that some of the other athletes attending were old teammates of her friend’s husband, so she was looking forward to seeing how he’d act around his teammates with she and his wife in his usual role as observer, noting whatever male bonding rituals hockey players have when they hang out off ice when for more times than count, it was often her friend’s husband having to watch his wife and the rest of their girls celebrate girls’ night whenever she and her friend happened to be in town at the same time.

That night, what she thought would be an innocuous handshake to meet someone for the first time. Wasn’t. It felt different. It felt more.

After that weekend, they did what they could to find moments of being in the same place at the same time in between the ongoing iMessage thread that began that first weekend when they decided to search for ice cream the day after the fundraiser. And continued on to include photos of their day, wherever they happened to be. To cute dog photos they’d want to share with the other that they saw on Instagram or Twitter. To goofy selfies in the morning. To sleepy selfies just before they went to bed. 

The time they spent together in the same place, to have that time together, to hold each other’s hands as they’d snuggle watching movies at home, or over dinner, or on long walks at dusk, were so many of her favourite memories from the early days of their relationship. And despite having a career based on how well she could skate in partner hold on freezing cold rinks and the years of hand holding that career entailed, holding his hand was different. A good different. Maybe because holding his hand meant nothing more than she was able to hold his hand whenever she wanted to. To be able to hold his hand when he’d softly hold her hands in his. To know that there was no need for a reason to hold hands. But she could. And he could. And it was enough.


End file.
